Here All Along
by and she knew love
Summary: When John Smith's words hit Lilly where it hurts, Scotty is there when she needs him. Continuation of episode 5x15, "The Road." L/S.


**Just a little oneshot while I work on the next chapter for my other Cold Case story. I just watched "The Road" again (5x15), and I wanted to write a little continuation. For those of you who don't remember that episode, search up "Cold Case Lilly Scotty Scene The Road" on YouTube. That should jog your memory (and make you grin like an idiot). **

**Hope you enjoy. Leave a review, as always. **

**Disclaimer: Cold Case isn't mine. **

* * *

It was a long time before he found her. He checked all the usual places, her house, the precinct, some of the restaurants she liked to go to for lunch. He ducked into what must have been every bar within a three-mile radius of the police station, and he even sat on her doorstep for half an hour, hoping in vain to see her blond head bobbing up the street. Finally, he threw open the door of what must have been the hundredth bar and glanced around halfheartedly—only to spot that familiar blond head slumped down on the bar.

His heart skipping a beat, he hurried in with a rush of relief, hesitating only when he got within five feet of her. This close, she looked…well, she looked downright awful. Her ponytail had only gotten messier, and shadows had darkened under those beautiful blue eyes of hers. But they weren't so beautiful now, not hazy with drink. He could tell right then and there that she'd knocked back one too many.

Her eyes tracked to his face slowly, and it took a moment for recognition to light up her face. She didn't lift her head, just looked at him and said in a tone he'd never heard from her before, "Hey there, handsome."

Her voice was kind of pitchy and full of suppressed laughter; he got the feeling she was half a second away from bursting into drunk giggles. It was high and flippant and not Lilly at all.

She frowned, or tried to. "What's wrong? You not gonna sit down?" She gestured to the seat next to her, almost falling off the stool as she did so. Scotty leaped forward to catch her, but she righted herself with difficulty and let out a laugh. "I'm kinda shaky right now, so you'll have to sit down by yourself."

He didn't move. His brow creased as he took her in, took in this drunk, blond-haired stranger parading around as his partner, and he didn't quite know what to do. He hadn't ever even _imagined_ handling Lilly like this, Lilly dead drunk and so…so _different._

"Sit down," she repeated, reaching for her half-filled glass on the bar. She missed the first time, and confusion crossed her features. After a moment, her face covered in a goofy smile, she tried again and managed to grab her drink. For a moment, she just held onto it tightly, like she wasn't sure if she'd really got it. Then, grinning almost cross-eyed up at him, she lifted the glass unsteadily.

He put his hand over the rim, slamming the drink back onto the bar. Some of the alcohol slopped onto his sleeve, but he really couldn't care less. All his attention was on Lilly, on his unrecognizable partner. What the hell happened to her?

She shot him a glare, which wasn't nearly as intimidating when she couldn't quite focus on his face. "Scotty! I'm _trying_ to get drunk here!"

He snorted, glaring back at her. "You've done a good enough job at that."

She stubbornly tried to free her glass from under his hand, but her grip was weak from exhaustion and drink. Seeing her struggle, he softened slightly, knowing that he'd never seen her so vulnerable and that it had to be bad for her to let him see her with her all walls gone. Unshielded, unprotected. Just Lilly.

"I haven't really," she said, pouting a little. If he hadn't been so worried about her, he might have laughed. As it was, he just watched her silently as she released the glass and turned away from him.

"How much you wanna bet?" he said after a moment. "You couldn't walk a straight line if your life depended on it, could you?"

She laughed, so different from her normal laugh that he winced. "Good thing I got my trusty partner then. You won't let 'em arrest me, will ya?"

"It might do you some good," he muttered, quietly so she wouldn't hear him. Louder, he sighed and pulled her coat off the back of her stool. "Come on, Lil. I'll get you home."

She looked at him with those hazy eyes of hers and didn't move. "Home? What for?"

"You're drunk, Lil. I ain't lettin' you drive."

"Who says I'm going home?" she answered, turning back to the bar. Raising her hand, she tried to catch the bartender's eye and failed. With a sigh, she reached slowly for her half-empty cup, but Scotty moved it away.

"You've had way too much to drink, Lil," he said sternly, holding her coat out to her. "You ain't thinkin' straight."

She laughed. "Maybe I'm not. But I don't care."

"You'll care in the mornin'," he said, raising an eyebrow. "You're gonna have a helluva hangover."

She shrugged. "What if I stay drunk then? What if I drink so much I never get sober?" Her voice quieting, losing some of its pitch, she said, "What if I drink so much I just die?"

Alarm shot through him like lightning, followed quickly by fear. Blinding fear that she meant what she said. "You ain't thinkin' that, are you?" he demanded roughly, grabbing her arm. "You ain't really thinkin' that?"

She didn't struggle, just stared straight into his eyes. "What if I do, Scotty? Just like my mom. It would stop, wouldn't it? It would all just…stop."

Now he was confused _and_ scared, scared of that hollow look in Lilly's eyes and the quiet wistfulness in her voice. His hold on her arm tightening, he searched her eyes for any sign of the Lilly he knew and found none. There was none of that strong, confident woman he'd come to know so well; there was only this broken, empty stranger he'd never seen before. And it terrified him.

"Stop?" he echoed, stifling his growing alarm. "What would stop?"

She looked at him for a long moment. "Everything," she breathed eventually. "Just…everything."

"What brought this on?" he demanded, giving her a little shake when her eyes unfocused. "What the hell happened to you, Lil?" Three hours ago, she'd been the same detective he'd always known, the partner he'd trust with his life. Now she was a woman he probably wouldn't even trust with his coat.

She looked at him again, with that awful, hollow-eyed gaze. "What happened to me? Nothing, I think. I think…I think I've been this way all along."

He swallowed hard. "What way?" He didn't think he wanted to hear the answer, but he suddenly had to know. _What way?_

She smiled humorlessly and glanced away. "Like _this._ You know, alone, quiet…Nothing_._"

A surge of anger shot through him, and he said fiercely, "You _ain't_ nothin', Lil."

She let out another laugh, and this time, it was bitter. "How can you say that, Scotty? You know it, I know it. You strip the job away from me, and what am I? _Who_ am I?"

And he knew then what had turned his gorgeous partner into this empty woman. Rage roared up inside of him. "Damn him," he growled quietly, clenching his fists. "_Damn_ him."

She sighed, and he looked at her, _really_ looked. And behind those empty eyes, behind the flimsy wall that even now she tried to throw up, he saw the real her. He saw the pain, the confusion, and the loneliness. He saw how deeply John Smith's words had cut her, how the bastard had touched something in Lilly that even she probably hadn't considered before. He saw how he'd hurt her.

Fists clenched, he forced himself to keep in place, to not draw his gun and go hunting for the guy who'd driven Lilly to this bar, who'd made her into the woman he saw now. Worry warred with fury inside him, and for a long moment, he couldn't decide whether to comfort her or to go shoot someone, preferably John Smith himself. In the end, though, it wasn't a hard choice.

Sliding into the seat next to her, he said quietly, "Lil, you're so much more than the job."

She scoffed, looking down at the whorls on the bar where the wood patterns twisted and swirled. "How?"

He opened his mouth, and the words stuck to his throat. Damn it, he couldn't think of a single thing to say. He'd seen her maybe twice outside of their general work setting, and both times, she'd been poring over case files or working herself to exhaustion over paperwork. Not once had he ever seen her do something just because, just for fun, and the only thing he knew about her really was that she loved her little mutant cats. Guilt streaked through him; he'd been Lilly's partner for almost five years, considered her one of his closest friends, and he didn't even know her favorite _color?_ He didn't know if she liked horror movies or romance ones, or if she preferred the beach to Vegas. Hell, he didn't even know how she liked her coffee. What the hell kind of friend was he?

She smiled bitterly. "See? Take away the detective, and I'm just Lilly. And Lilly's a nobody. No one knows her. No one's her friend. She's all alone."

"That ain't true," he argued, reaching out to touch her hand. "Lil, you know I'm here for you. _I_ know you. _I'm _your friend."

She shook her head. "You're my _partner_, Scotty."

"So I can't be your friend too?" he asked, eyes narrowing.

"It doesn't count," she said, looking away. "You're…you're part of the job."

_Part of the job._ He couldn't hide the hurt that flashed across his face, and he drew back slightly, stung. So he was just _part of the job_ to her, was he? He was just her partner, her colleague, someone she said hi to in the morning and discussed case files with and complained to about the awful break room coffee. Not someone she cared for, not someone she would trust. Not a friend.

"Part of the job," he repeated stiffly.

She nodded, clearly oblivious to his tone. "So you strip away the job, and you're gone too. You and Kat and Nick and Boss and Jefferies—all gone. Who am I without you guys? No one."

"You're your own woman, Lil," he countered, a thousand emotions rushing through him. "You're this strong, independent woman who doesn't take crap from anyone and loves her cats and hates musicals. You're amazin', Lil. You're the strongest woman I've ever known."

She shook her head, and he was shocked to see her eyes glistening. "No," she said, her voice cracking. "No, I'm not. Don't lie to me, Scotty."

Anger pulsed through him, and he tightened his grip on her hand. "Look at me, Lil. _Look_ at me."

Slowly, she obeyed. He caught her eyes, held them, wished he could find any sign of the woman he knew. But her gaze was unfamiliar, so unfamiliar. Wet with unshed tears, flat with her exhaustion. He swallowed hard.

"I ain't lyin' to you," he said. "I'd never lie to you, Lil."

She turned away. "I just…" She swallowed and stared at the opposite wall, her eyes distant. He wanted to push her, to find out what he could do, but he knew it was useless to push Lilly, even Lilly drunk out of her mind with her walls low. So he just sat quietly and waited, wondering just how many drinks she'd downed and if she was even going to remember him sitting in the bar with her in the morning.

She sighed heavily. "I think I'm ready to go home now."

He heaved a sigh of his own, caught between relief that she wasn't reaching for another drink and frustration that she wouldn't talk to him. "Sure. Put on your coat."

She fumbled with it for a moment before he reached out to help her. Giving him a small smile of thanks, she didn't bother with the buttons as she headed for the doors. She swayed dangerously as she went, so Scotty trailed on her heels, one hand lightly touching the small of her back just in case she stumbled. They made their way out into the dimly-lit parking lot, and Scotty helped her into the passenger seat. After making sure she was belted in securely, he slid behind the steering wheel and started up the car.

She looked so tired. Not that adorable tired that appeared after she'd solved a long, hard case and given the victims peace. She just looked so tired of…of everything. Her eyes were what scared him the most, those eyes usually so full of emotion and empathy, those eyes with that sparkle. They were flat and empty now, lifeless. And he was terrified that Lilly Rush had finally, finally given up.

He wanted to tell her so many things. He wanted to tell her that she was so much to so many people, that she was so far from _nothing _that it was almost funny. He wanted to tell her that to strip the job away from her was to reveal a woman so beautiful, so gorgeous, that it made his breath catch every time he caught those little glimpses, those snatches, of her beneath it all, beneath the detective and beneath the walls. He wanted to tell her that their partnership was so much more than the job to him.

But he didn't. Like all the other times he'd wanted to tell her things that were wholly unprofessional, he forced himself to bite back the words. They had a special thing going here, their partnership, and he knew that all it took were a few short words and it would all come crashing down. She'd shut him out like she had after Christina, and he'd be left hanging and cursing himself for ruining the best thing that had ever happened to him.

After a moment, he realized belatedly that they'd passed her house. And after another moment, he realized that he didn't want to be leaving her alone, not when she was like this. Not when she was dead drunk and saying things that made him want to seize her and shake her to make her come to her senses. He _couldn't_ leave her alone.

So he kept on driving. Lilly, for her part, seemed too out of it to notice. Stifling his worry, he drove silently to his apartment building and parked the car. For a moment, they just sat in silence, the warmth of the car enveloping them, the only sounds his quiet breaths and hers.

Finally, Lilly stirred. "I might've had too much to drink," she said slowly, turning to look at him, "but I'm pretty sure this isn't my house."

He gave her a little half-smile. "I'm pretty sure it ain't either. Come on." Getting out of the car, he crossed over to her side and opened the door. "Come on, Lil."

She looked up at him in muddled confusion. "My memory's a little fuzzy, but I think I asked you to take me home."

He reached forward to unbuckle her seatbelt and held out his hand. "You did. I ain't leavin' you alone, though."

Her eyes slid away from his, and she clenched her hands on her coat. Her voice laced with bitterness, she asked, "Why? 'Cause I'm sitting here feeling sorry for myself, and Scotty in his shining armor can't leave it alone? 'Cause I'm just another damsel in distress for you to save, just like Elisa, just like Christina?"

It stung. Even though her head lolled around and she clearly had no control over herself, it stung. He hated when she threw Elisa in his face, and he hated it even more when she threw Christina at him. Damn it, hadn't they made their peace over that? Hadn't they agreed to be friends, agreed that he'd made a damned stupid mistake, agreed to leave it in the past? Couldn't she see that after all that, after all those girls he'd gone through, after Christina, it had always been her? Only her?

Tightly, in a voice edged by anger, he said, "Yeah, Lil, you are. You're a damsel in distress right now, and even you can't deny it. You're wasted, probably wasted enough to go off and do somethin' mind-bogglingly stupid, and you're sayin' crazy, crazy things. I ain't ever seen you so pathetic." His voice softened as he took a breath. "But you're also my friend. And I ain't leavin' you alone 'cause I care."

She didn't answer, so he pulled her gently from the car. For a moment, they just stood in the cold night air, Lilly swaying a little and Scotty watching her closely in case she fell. Her face upturned, she stared high into the night sky, up at the cloudless night and million gleaming stars. She looked beautiful in the moonlight, even with that shadowed expression on her face, even with those foggy eyes. He had to clench his fists to keep from touching her.

"The stars," she said slowly, her face turned away from him as she looked into the sky. "Can you see them?"

He nodded. "Yeah, Lil. They're beautiful." But he was watching her.

"Are they?" Her voice was quiet now, hushed. "I can't see them."

He looked at her, confused. "What d'you mean? They're right there."

She laughed quietly, self-deprecatingly. Hands tucked into her coat pockets, she asked, "D'you think happiness is like those stars?"

"What do you mean?" he asked slowly, wondering what she was getting at.

She didn't turn to look at him. "Everyone else can see it," she replied softly. "To everyone else, it's right there, and it's beautiful. But I can't see it. I don't think I've ever seen it."

Emotion more powerful than he'd ever felt it washed over him. He'd never felt such compassion in his life, not when Christina had come to him, not even when Elisa had battled her demons. Hearing his partner, his beautiful, headstrong partner, whisper about something she thought she'd never have stirred up such a powerful rush of feeling in him that he couldn't hold himself back anymore. Taking a breath, he stepped in close to her and wrapped her in a tight hug.

"It ain't you, Lil," he whispered fiercely in her ear. "It's the drink that's talkin'. When you wake up and all the alcohol is outta your system, you'll see. You'll see that the stars've been in front of you all along."

She let him hold her, let him pull her head to his shoulder. For a moment, she just stood stiffly in his embrace, awkwardly enduring it. And then, with a shuddering breath, it was like her last defenses finally cracked, and she broke. With another shaky breath, she buried her face in his shoulder, her arms raising to clench him tightly, pulling his body flush with hers. He could feel then that she was trembling, whether from emotion or the cold, he couldn't tell. But feeling her quivering against him, he couldn't help but pull her in even more tightly, reveling in the feel of having her in his arms, wishing to God he could show her once and for all what she meant to him.

She was crying, he realized suddenly, with a sort of dazed shock. Lilly Rush, surreally enough, was crying into his shoulder, crying like he'd never imagined her before. She cried silently, barely shaking, but there was so much emotion in it, so much pain. How many times had he silently begged her to let down her walls? How many times had he wanted to comfort her, wanted her to confide in him so he could help her? And now that she was finally doing it, now that she'd finally broken in front of him, he was paralyzed. He couldn't breathe with the force of her grief, and he wished he knew what on earth she was crying about, what had broken through her fifty-foot walls. He wished he could do something other than hold her tightly as she cried.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice hitching as she tried to pull away from him. "I'm sorry, Scotty. I—I didn't mean to—"

"Shh," he whispered, arms around her to keep her from pulling away. "It's okay. It's good. It's better to let it all out."

"It doesn't feel better," she said wryly, and he felt a wave of relief at the fact that she sounded more sober than she had all night.

"You'll feel better after you get all sobered up," he told her, smiling a little as he took a hold of her hand. "Come on, let's go inside."

She didn't argue, but she did lean on his shoulder to keep from falling over. Slowly, they made their way up the stairs and down the hallways to his apartment. Halfway there, Lilly's head dropped to his shoulder, and her eyes closed. He stopped, giving her a little shake.

"C'mon, Lil," he said gently. "We're almost there."

"Sleepy," she murmured back, not moving.

He shook her again. "C'mon, open your eyes. You're gonna run into somethin' if you walk like that."

When she didn't answer, he hesitated. He could always drag her back to his apartment, but the thought of banging her against walls on accident made him wince. After a moment, he crouched and carefully levered Lilly onto his back, her hands clasped loosely around his neck.

"You okay?" he asked her as he stood. When she nodded drowsily against his shoulder, he started up the final set of stairs up to his apartment. At his door, he dug the key out of his pocket and fumbled for a moment before the door swung open.

He stepped inside, kicking the door shut, and reached a hand for the light. Lilly's head lolled on his shoulder, bumping against his own head, and he shot her a wry look. She was really out of it, wasn't she? Who knew Lilly was capable of drinking to the point of passing out? He'd seen her knock back a beer, but that was it. And how absolutely unbelievable was it now that Lilly Rush who was always professional, always in control, was completely wasted?

With a sigh, he flicked on the lights and headed for his couch. Staggering a bit, he helped her off his back and laid her haphazardly on the couch.

"Jeez, Lil," he huffed, catching her as she rolled toward the edge of the couch, "you ain't makin' this easy for me, are you?"

Her lips twitched in an almost-smile. Eyes still closed, she murmured, "What? I'm too much for you, Valens?"

"Definitely," he groaned, and he meant it, in more ways than one. She'd always been too much for him, too much for his self-control, which was nearly nonexistent when he was around her.

When she looked comfortable enough, he let out a breath. "Stay here, okay? I'm gonna grab some blankets and—"

"Scotty?"

A new voice. In his apartment. Which he'd locked.

His body reacted instinctively. Whirling, he drew his gun in a reflexive motion and pointed it in the direction of the voice, his eyes searching quickly for the source of danger. All he could think for a moment was _God, why the hell did I bring Lil back here? _She was in danger because of him. He'd never been more furious at himself.

Whoever it was let out a little yelp as he swung the gun in the general direction of the sound, and the cry was enough for him to pause. When he spotted the figure in his bedroom doorframe, his eyes widened.

"_Alex?"_

The redheaded ADA stood with that small, wry smile of hers on her lips, her hands thrown up as he swung the gun in her direction. "Hello, Scotty."

How had she…? He'd been _sure_ he'd locked his door.

"You gave me a key, remember?" she said, guessing at his thoughts. "I came over to…I don't know. I haven't seen you in a while. Thought I'd drop by so we could…talk."

_Talk._ He knew by the way she said it that she'd meant to do much more than _talking_ with him.

"We ended it," he said slowly, in confusion. "It didn't work out."

She shrugged. "Maybe. But we were both mad when we ended it. I thought…" She laughed derisively, an edge to her voice. "Obviously not. Who's the mystery girl?"

Mystery girl? His eyes flicked back to the couch. Oh, right. Lil. He saw how Alex could have misinterpreted things.

"She ain't a new girl," he explained. "It's Lil."

The ADA's eyes widened in disbelief. "_What?_ Your _partner?_ God, Scotty, I didn't think…Aren't there rules against that sort of thing?"

She thought he was in a _relationship_ with Lil? He couldn't help but laugh at the thought of it. _Him_, Scotty Valens, a man for the women, someone who loved company and fun, with _Lilly Rush,_ Ice Queen, loner, professional?

"No," he said, still laughing, "it ain't like that. It's just that Lil's had too much to drink."

Alex eyed him disbelievingly. "And you had to take her back to your apartment?"

"Yeah, 'cause…"

And the amusement faded as he remembered exactly why he'd been uneasy with leaving Lilly alone at her house. The anxiety creeping back, his eyes slid subconsciously over to Lilly on his couch, her eyes closed.

"'Cause?" Alex prompted, folding her arms. He could tell that she was pissed. And jealous. The dark gleam in her eye as she looked at Lilly convinced him of that.

He couldn't help but step protectively in front of Lilly, like Alex's glare could actually harm her. "Just 'cause," he replied, not wanting to get into Lilly's issues with his ex-girlfriend. God knew it might take all night.

"Fine," she said, anger clear in her voice. "I know when I'm not welcome. Good to see you again, Detective. Let's not make it a repeat experience."

_Hey, you came to me,_ he thought, temper flaring. But when Lilly sat up, startling him into flinching, all his anger was blown away by concern.

"Don't," Lilly said, her brow creasing in a way that told Scotty she was starting to feel the effects of all those drinks she'd had. "Don't leave."

Alex paused, almost to the door. Her expression still angry, she turned back and demanded, "And why the hell not?"

He opened his mouth angrily, about to snap at Alex for speaking to Lil that way, but his partner stood unsteadily before he could. She swayed on her feet, almost toppling, and he reached forward hurriedly to steady her.

"Lay down, Lil," he said, trying to push her back, but she brushed his hands away.

"Don't need help," she mumbled, her eyes still foggy. To Alex, she said, "Don't bother. I was just about to leave anyway."

_Now_ he was angry. Lil probably couldn't even unlock his door, probably couldn't even tie her shoelaces without help, and she wanted to _leave?_ What, was she _trying _to get killed?

He grabbed her arm, eyes narrowed. "You ain't goin' anywhere, Lil. Sit down."

"That's right," Alex mocked, the malice in her voice biting. "Sit down, Lil. I'll just get out of your way."

"Don't," Lilly repeated, trying to brush off Scotty's hand. "I don't wanna…get between you two."

Was that…was that _hurt_ he heard in her voice? Was Lilly Rush _hurt?_ Over _what?_

A little confusion mixing in with the anger, he said, "Lil, we ain't anythin' anymore. We broke it off. You don't need to worry 'bout gettin' in the way."

She looked at him for a moment, those blue eyes gleaming in the light of the room. He searched her gaze, wanting to know more than ever what she was thinking but unable, as usual, to see past her walls. Her walls, damn it. When the hell had she put them up again? How the hell had she gotten _sober_ enough to put them up again?

"Great little drama you have going here," Alex said caustically, yanking the door open. "You two have a nice night."

Lilly flinched as she slammed the door behind her, and Scotty had to clench his fists to keep from running out the door after Alex to give her a _very_ uncensored piece of his mind. Instead, he focused on Lilly, focused on trying to figure out how she was doing and if she was sober enough to talk to. She seemed more alert than she had before, and that sort of giddily drunk edge had left her voice. She seemed a little more…stable.

Slowly, he let out a breath and moved to sit heavily before reaching out to pull her down beside him. This time, she sat willingly, the fight seeming to have left her. With a quiet sigh, she leaned back, her eyes closed. He couldn't quite ignore the fact that their knees touched.

After a moment, he asked softly, "You okay, Lil?"

She laughed humorlessly. "Does it _look_ like I'm okay?"

He glanced at her, taking in the shadowed eyes and bitter smile all over again. No, she definitely didn't look okay. She looked like hell. Like hell frozen over. He wished he could reach out to her—and then it hit him that he could. What was stopping him? He didn't even think Lilly would remember this in the morning, when she was all sobered up. He'd never have a better chance.

So he reached out an arm and pulled her close to him, cradling her head on his shoulder, breathing in her scent. Obviously surprised, she stiffened against him, probably thinking of how many office regulations they were breaking, but the alcohol seemed to do the trick. After a moment, she relaxed against him and laid her head on his arm.

"You know you can talk to me," he said into the silence. "I ain't gonna…judge you or anythin'. I'm your friend, Lil."

She sighed heavily. "I know." Her voice was quiet, lacking that strong, wry quality he was used to. "I know you're my friend."

"And you can talk to me," he prompted, hoping she would but not knowing what to do if she did. He'd just have to improvise, he supposed.

He felt her smile against his shoulder. "Always the hero act you got going, huh, Valens?" Before he could protest, she added quietly, "I like it. I don't tell you, but it's nice to have someone worrying. And you always worry about me."

A swell of affection gushed up in him, and he had to resist the urge to bend down and kiss her head. Instead, he just tightened his arm around her and said, "Of course I worry 'bout you. And I always will."

She laughed. "Gets annoying sometimes, you know."

He laughed too. "You know you love it." He held her silently for another long moment, wishing he could tell her how she felt about her, wishing he could take away that emptiness in her eyes.

"I don't know," she said suddenly, not looking at him.

He stirred. "Don't know what?"

"Today, when John Smith asked me what got me up in the morning," she whispered. "I thought about it. And I don't know."

His arm tightened around her as anger rushed through him at the thought of that bastard John Smith taunting Lilly from the backseat of the car, pressing her weak spots, hurting his fiercely independent partner.

"He was just runnin' his mouth," Scotty answered firmly. "Don't let it get to you, Lil."

"No," Lilly said. "He was right. I thought about it, and he was right. I'm like those girls he kidnapped. I've got nothing but the job, and if someone takes it from me, I'm…nothing."

"You _ain't_ nothing," Scotty argued. "I already told you that. And no one's takin' anythin' from you, Lil, I promise."

"Do you think I've broken?" she whispered as if he hadn't said anything, her voice quiet and afraid. "Just like those girls who lost what they were holding onto, do you think I've broken too?"

Broken? _Broken?_ Lil? No, no, no, if anyone had asked him that morning what could shake his indomitable partner, he'd have said nothing could. He'd only ever seen Lilly truly shaken once or twice in the five years he'd known her, and he'd never seen her broken. He'd never even _imagined_ her broken. How could you break someone who was so strong, so passionate? Someone who caught killers and put them where they belonged, someone who, in a world of wrongs, tried to do right? But now…now, he wasn't so sure. From the moment he'd found her in that bar, he'd seen a different Lil. He'd seen her hit rock bottom. He'd seen her…broken.

No. _No._ He wouldn't believe it. He _couldn't_ believe it.

"You ain't broken," he said fiercely, as much to himself as to her. "You're like Brenda, Lil. You never broke. You never will."

"I don't know, Scotty," she said quietly. "I got home today, and the house was so lonely. I thought about…about dying, and it wasn't so bad, the thought of it. Sometimes I just want everything to end. Sometimes I think it would just all be easier that way, for everyone."

"Not for me, Lil," he answered vehemently, appalled at the way she spoke about her death like it was nothing. Like no one would care. "Not for Boss or Vera or the whole Squad either. Don't you even _think_ about somethin' like that."

She sighed. "I just want something to live for, Scotty. Something that's not the job. Something _more _than the job. I just wish I knew what."

_Me. _The word sprang to his lips, and by sheer strength of will, he stopped it. He wanted so badly to tell her that he was there for her, there in more ways than a partner, more ways, even, than a friend. But he was afraid. Deep beneath all that bravado, all his cockiness, he was a coward.

"You got things, Lil," he said instead. "You got…you got your cats."

Even he winced at that answer. She snorted. "The cats…sure. Not exactly what I was getting at."

He clenched his fist at the weight in her voice. She sounded so cold, so lost. He wanted to be her anchor.

"Have you?" he asked suddenly, the question out before he could stop it. "Have you ever…given up? Stopped lookin' for a way out?"

John Smith had said she'd had experience with that, and Scotty had snapped. Now he wished he'd waited just a moment longer, to hear what Lil would have said.

She was silent for a long moment, so long that he thought she'd just passed out on his shoulder. He could just faintly smell the alcohol on her breath, and he wondered how long she'd been sitting in that bar alone, entertaining all these crazy-ass depressed thoughts before he'd shown up. If he hadn't shown up, if she'd gone home alone, what would have happened? He shuddered at the thought of leaving a very-nearly suicidal Lilly to her own devices.

At last, she broke the silence. "After the shooting," she said quietly, shifting closer to him almost subconsciously, "I got nightmares. I couldn't sleep. Still can't sometimes. And the interview rooms…I have to force myself to go in there. Sometimes it's okay, and sometimes it's not. I just kept hearing that voice in my head, the nurse's voice, _'Can we call someone? Who should we call? Who should we call?'_ and there was no one. No one to call."

For a moment, he just sat in stunned silence. Lilly Rush had let down her walls. Lilly Rush had opened up to him, had bared her weakness to him. She had stopped being strong.

He swallowed hard. It could be the drink talking. It could be that Lilly just wasn't capable of throwing up walls while drunk. Whatever it was, he knew that her sharing with him was something big. He couldn't screw it up.

"I was there," he said softly. "I was at the hospital. The whole squad was. You just didn't call anyone 'cause you didn't have to. We were already there."

She shook her head. "Even if you weren't there, I wouldn't have known who to call."

"You woulda called me," he said with certainty. "You woulda called me, and I woulda called Boss, and we woulda all been there for you. 'Cause we _care_, Lil. You're our friend. You ain't alone, not by a long shot."

"Maybe." She took a long, shuddering breath. "I just remember waking up from one of the nightmares and wishing it would all just stop. Wishing I could end it. And then I wondered why I couldn't, and the only reason I came up with was that we were in the middle of a case, and I couldn't quit. And I thought that after we caught the killer, I could stop. Stop coping. Stop hurting. Stop everything."

Terror lanced through him at her words, at her almost overwhelming emotion. He'd never seen this coming. God, he'd never known how close he'd been to losing her. There he'd been, being a goddamn idiot with Alex, and here Lil had been, hurting all this time, putting on that fake smile that he'd seen through but done nothing about. Like a goddamn idiot.

He took a shaky breath and closed his eyes. She had been so close…If they hadn't had a case, if they'd just closed one when she was getting these thoughts, what would have happened? Would it have been…would it have been _her_ photo he saw the next time he opened a file? Would he have been writing _suicide_ as cause of death on that awful white form?

"God, Lil," he whispered, unable to keep the emotion from his voice, "I never knew…I never _thought_…" His voice broke, and he couldn't finish.

She smiled against his shoulder. "I'm good at it, aren't I? Hiding what I feel."

_Nothin' to be proud of,_ he snapped inwardly. _Not if it's gonna get you killed._ He shook his head in silent disbelief. How the _hell_ did he call himself a detective when he couldn't even read his own partner when she needed him most?

"I had no idea it got that bad," he said quietly. "I woulda…"

"Done what?" she asked, that familiar wry smile on her lips. But it had none of the life it usually did.

And he knew that this was it. She'd hit rock bottom, finally. She'd…broken.

And she'd opened up to him. She'd let down all her damn walls and bared her soul to him, bared all her hurts, all her fears. She'd let John Smith's words and the drink suck her dry, leave her empty. And he knew suddenly, with startling clarity, that all it would take to heal her was to fill her up again. Fill her up with hopes and dreams and _life._

"Done this," he whispered, and he turned his head and kissed her.

Her lips were so soft, so inviting. He tasted the alcohol on them, the scent heavy and heady and somehow intoxicating. When she didn't pull back, he pressed deeper toward her, wanting to show her how amazing she was, wanting her to feel everything he thought about her, wanting to show her that she had something to live for all right, and that the stars had been in front of her all along.

And then she was crying. He could taste the saltiness of her tears, and this time when she cried, her entire body shook. She trembled like a leaf with the force of her sobs, and his heart broke. Ending the kiss, he drew her into his arms, letting her cry into his chest, wishing to God he could somehow take all her hurt away.

"Why?" she gasped, the word a half-sob. "Why?"

Why what? Why had he kissed her? The words came to his lips and for once, he let them go.

"'Cause I love you, Lil," he whispered into her ear. "'Cause you _ain't_ alone, and I'll be here every step of the way to prove that to you. 'Cause I ain't lettin' you go, no matter how much you want everythin' to stop."

She didn't freeze up. She didn't leap out of his arms and bolt for the door, like he'd been afraid she would. She just buried her face in his chest and shook with silent sobs. It might have been the alcohol that kept his confession from scaring the hell out of her, and for the first time, he was glad she'd knocked back as many drinks as she had.

"I don't…" she said. "I can't…"

"Shh," he answered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head like he'd always wanted to. "You'll be fine, Lil. You're gonna be fine."

"But, Scotty, I can't…I don't know if I can love you back. Not the way…not the way you'd want me to."

"Maybe you already do," he said, smiling against her head. "Maybe you're lovin' me the way I need." Maybe he and she had become a _them_ a long, long time ago. Maybe they just hadn't realized it.

She sighed heavily. "Are you sure…? What about that ADA?"

He almost laughed. "Alex? She's not even in the same picture as we are. She was just a stupid fling, Lil."

"And what if I am too?" She smiled self-deprecatingly through her tears. "Is this the white-knight thing striking again? Poor Lilly, sobbing like an idiot, talking crazy. She needs something to hold onto, so why not give her a kiss?"

Good _God._ What the _hell_ did he need to do to convince her that it _wasn't_ some hero complex he had going on, that he really did love her, that he had for a long, long time now?

"Lil," he said slowly, forcing the anger and frustration away, "you remember that Joseph guy?"

"Of course."

"Yeah, well, I didn't like him."

"Yeah, you said I was risking my job. Of course you didn't like him."

"Not just 'cause of that," he told her. "I didn't like him 'cause I was jealous. I was jealous that you'd fallen for this dead guy when here I was, completely alive in front of you, and you didn't go to me when you needed someone. I just…" He sighed. "I just wanted you to trust me."

"I _do_ trust you."

"And I wanted you to _choose_ me. Not those bastards who loved you and left you."

She took a slow, measured breath. "So you mean…with me…"

"It ain't a fling," he reassured her. "Anythin' but that, Lil. You deserve…God, you deserve so much more than that."

And it was like his words had stripped away any damage John Smith's words had dealt, like his words had made her whole. A blinding smile spread across her face, and her eyes, so flat all night, suddenly burst into color. Beautiful, sparkling blue, the color he loved. She was full again.

"Next time you're in the hospital," he said with a wide, answering smile, holding her close, "you call me, Lil. And the next time you think 'bout wantin' everythin' to stop, you think of me. And next time someone tells you you're broken, you beat the crap outta them, then call me so I can beat the crap outta them too." He gave her another kiss, one that left them both breathless and glowing.

Taking a breath, he framed her face with his hands and looked into those eyes of hers, those eyes that shone again with familiar strength. "And the next time you say you can't see the stars and that you ain't ever gonna see 'em…" He spread his arms wide. "Well, damn, Lil, open your eyes. I'm right here."

And she laughed, and it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard.


End file.
